


4 Wanks and a Funeral

by hobbeshalftail3469



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: A bit of mouth work, Corm forgets and gets carried away, Corm gives into temptation, Corm wanking, Don't say you haven't been warned!, F/M, Hidden Cameras, How fortunate that May is the Merry Month of Masturbation!, I have smut withdrawl, Ilsa is only involved in a shopping trip!, Merry Month of Masturbation, My last fic was so sugary sweet, Of course he does!, Robin automatically checks the emails first!, Robin puts on a show for Corm, Robin wanking, THIS IS VERY E RATED, The funeral is metaphorical!, The title says it all!, This is from my you can't publish that folder, This is just lots and lots of wanking, a lovely shag, anyone else have one of those?, but lovely!, fast, he's called Vlad!, it is amusing too!, mmom, using a bit of lube, using her trusty vibrator, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 15:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/pseuds/hobbeshalftail3469
Summary: OK, so, having produced a really sugary, sweet and fluffy fic I was suffering smut withdrawl........how very fortunate then that my pal LulaIsAKitten pointed out that May is MMOM on A03!A version of this has been knocking around in my 'I really can't post this, it's just tooooooo out there!' for a while - anyone else have one of those folders by the way? Lula? You maybe?!?So....PLEASE BE WARNED - this is smut....complete wank fest.......literally!I worried about whether it is in any way believable....and have come to the conclusion that A) I don't care and B) I think it is more believable that Cormoran wanks than him going on a barging weekend! (Which I have just written...hahaha!)





	1. Cormoran : Number 1

Strike was cosily lounging in bed.   
It was a Sunday morning. The flat was cold, but he was toasty under the duvet.  
He had woken up from a rather vivid and delicious dream, involving his business partner……again!

This was getting to be a regular occurrence, and the only possible solution to his straining erection appeared to be a noisy and powerfully erotic wank…..granted it was the only solution he’d actually tried….but hey….if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!

He growled slightly as he made himself more comfortable on his mattress, curled slightly on his side and reached across to his small bedside drawer and took out the bottle of lube he’d worked his way halfway through in the past few weeks.  
He wasn’t sure what had happened to flip the switch in his brain; he’d always been vigilant in maintaining a professional distance between them, despite recognising that he was powerfully attracted to her.   
But about 5 weeks ago, after a particularly gruelling day trailing a suspect, and a few drinks on the Tottenham she’d reached back to get her bag ….and her blouse had fallen open slightly at the front….and he’d been glancing down……and he’d seen an amazing image that he still couldn’t erase from his mind.  
When he’d got back to his flat he’d pumped himself dry over the recollection….and he’d dreamt about her….and woken up stiff….and wanked himself to release in bed….and again in the shower….and now he couldn’t fucking stop.

Everything she did made him horny.

He’d even ‘stolen’ one of her scarves from the coat rack and draped it across his pillow, nuzzling into her glorious scent as he tugged himself mercilessly over the following days and then weeks.  
Hence he’d purchased a product to increase his pleasure and make the whole thing last longer and longer.   
He now had an almost perfect little scenario he could play out behind his closed eyes; involving what he knew was ridiculous, James Bond style banter between them and which culminated in him imagining himself pushing into her gloriously wet pussy – albeit his right hand took the place of that.

So, having squeezed a couple of pumps of the slick gel onto his palm he cupped his hand slightly, knowing that warming it definitely helped create a better sensation when he finally applied his hand to the task.  
He allowed his eyelids to close and ran through the fantasy he had vividly constructed.

For some reason Robin was working in the office wearing a tight fitting cocktail dress and high heeled black suede shoes. Her hair hung loose down her back and she sashayed into his office – he was always leaning back in his chair, a cigarette burning between his fingers.   
She would walk around to perch on his desk and seductively ask him “Is there anything else you need, Sir?” (He had no idea why the Sir was in there….he’d question his apparently deep seated, misogynistic tendencies once he’d cum!)

He would then exhale smoke through his nose, rest the lit cigarette in the ashtray and slide his hands around her hips, imagining firm flesh and satiny fabric under his fingers.  
He always moaned slightly at this point and vocalised his response in his deep, growling baritone, “You know exactly what I need, Miss Ellacott.”

At this point he’d stand and press her backwards as he kissed her – she’d plunge her soft tongue into his mouth and they’d kiss, her hands would rub across his back ferociously and he’d ease up her dress, sliding his hands across sheer stockings and discovering her soft skin at the top.  
(yeah, black stockings….he was pleasingly predictable when it came to sexy underwear!)

At this point, the James Bond thing kicked in and he’d release the zip down the back of her dress with his magnetic watch strap…she’d utter a line about him having just the right equipment and her dress would hit the floor leaving her virtually naked infront of him and his desk wearing a seductive smile, black stockings and a suspender belt.  
At this point he would growl something about him not being the only one with the right equipment and having upzipped his flies would lift her onto the desk and nudge her legs apart. 

Much as he always wanted to flesh this section of his fantasy out a bit more, he never managed it, and by this stage the lube in his palm was always warm and dripping through his fingers.  
By holding his hand in a fairly tight fist above himself he could thrush himself up into it, and it gave a very passable sensation of entering a moist and ready cunt, and he imagined Robin’s would feel at least this good as he worked himself against the tight curl of his fingers; his hips doing the work at this stage.

He’d imagine Robin writhing beneath him, his hand splayed under her arched back as he pumped in and out of her….hard, hungry and desperate.  
He’d then start moving his hand more, dragging and twisting up and down his full, not insignificant length, still imagining Robin tightly clenching around him, the lube adding that perfect slipperiness to ease his strokes.

Imagining gathering Robin to him and kissing her always made him groan and as his hand increased in pace he panted and sobbed various statements about how fucking perfect this felt, how good she was, how glorious her pussy felt, how good his cock felt inside her and how much he wanted to cum.

He’d started the scenario, daya ago, by wolfishly telling her that he was “going to cum inside you now” but after a brief change of plan now had Robin grabbing his hair (which he actually did now using his own left hand) and muttering close to his ear, “Do you want to cum now?” and this seemed to stimulate the word “Yeeeesssss!” ripping from his throat as he exploded and shot ribbons of his hot spunk across his belly, thighs, hand and the sheets.

These wanks were getting ridiculous!

He was spending (Ha! Pun intended!) hours of his life imagining fucking his work colleague……who he couldn’t have……although he’d started to forget why that was.

This particular Sunday morning therefore, he merely groaned and panted as his breathing stabilised (he pleasingly realised that it was taking less time….and he mentally high-fived himself on his increased fitness!)  
He considered how he’d have to change his bedding and wash it…… yet again! And tried to blot out mental chastisement at his own pervy, teenage behaviour and settled down under the duvet, which he’d pulled up over his nose, shuffling across to avoid the sticky sheets.  
He reached for his phone and checked his messages under the covers to keep in the heat he’d created.   
There was one from Robin:  
Dropping off stuff at post office first thing Monday….so you can either have a lie in or have a cuppa waiting for me around 9.30! R

Hmmmm….another lie in…..far too tempting; but he’d have clean sheets on by then……but these ones were already messy.  
“Oh fuck it…..right, step into my office again Miss Ellacott,” he snarled and allowed his eyes to close as he reached for the rapidly emptying bottle in the drawer.


	2. Robin : Number 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin's turn.  
> Shout out to the wonderful Fleabag for inspiring the name for Vlad!

Robin had had a very taxing day.  
For some reason Cormoran had decided that the pressing job of putting up a shelf and moving one of the filing cabinets which had been steadfastly ignored for the past 6 months now needed his full attention.  
So he’d been in and around the office all day….as had she.

He’d gotten himself increasingly ruffled, grubby and dishevelled as the tasks progressed.  
The grey shirt he was wearing had ended up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, his normally shambolic hair had been styled into a variety of shapes as his large hands had scraped through it – sometimes out of frustration, sometimes accompanying a nod of approval when the shelf finally sat correctly.

She had tried to ignore him…..difficult due to his sheer size; but that intoxicating aroma of male sweat, tobacco and a hint of shower gel, combined with gruff grunts and a quite alarming variety of expletives uttered in his deep, rumbling baritone had meant that she had invariably ended up staring and stifling her own sobs.  
And now she was running a particular series of mental images through her head, culminating in the sight of his rather deliciously pert arse clad in his taupe trousers, the fabric stretched tightly across each cheek.  
He’d almost shouldered the filing cabinet into place with his back towards her, and the final thrust had been accompanied by a guttural huff from him and a whimpering gasp from her….followed by a quiet visit to the loo to recompose herself fractionally.

Now however, in the privacy of her tiny flat, she was free to vocalise her feelings and act upon them….and she fully intended to.  
Locking the door she went through to her bedroom depositing her bag, coat and scarf on the way.  
She pulled off her boots and drew the curtains across, not bothering with a lamp.  
She stripped down to her underwear and slid beneath the covers for the warmth she knew would accompany any interaction with her work colleague….he was always like a furnace…..Christ, he’d be hot in bed!

She lay on her back, allowing her hand to cup her breast over her bra, already squeezing her legs together at the mental images of Cormoran buzzing through her head. She allowed her fingertips to dip below the fabric of her bra cup and circled her nipple, it was already hardening, and she rolled it between her finger and thumb and allowed her other hand to travel down to her pants.  
She slipped her fingers beneath the cotton of her practical M&S high legs and groaned slightly at the moisture already seeping from her. She delved her fingers down and circled the sticky juices from her opening across her soft lips and found herself arching her back off the mattress, her head pressing back into the pillows.  
She had found a wonderful rhythm between her breast and cunt and was grinding herself pleasurable against her own fingers, knowing that she was panting and gasping now.  
She also knew that this alone would not bring her the orgasmic relief she needed; it felt great, but after a full day spent stifling the urge to leap on her work colleague she needed to cum hard.

What she desperately needed was a hard cock inside her…preferably attached to the swarthy, hirsute body of her one and a half legged co-worker…but failing that…  
…..she reached across to her bedside drawer and took out Vlad…she’d nicknamed her sleek, metallic covered vibrator that because the model was called The Impaler!

She knew she didn’t need any extra lubricant, she was wet enough. Flicking it on at the switch she carefully separated her lips and stroked it against herself, covering the tip with her own juices before pressing the throbbing length inside her and pulling back her leg to create the sensation and rhythm that she craved.  
Twisting and pressing she pumped Vlad in and out of her desperate pussy….God it had been a long time since she’d had a real cock!

She angled the vibrator so that the throbbing tip pressed and rubbed against her G spot whilst she allowed her free hand to grasp her breasts and free them from the restraint of her bra, cupping each one and squeezing the taut nipples tightly in her fingers, licking her finger and swirling the wet digit around before blowing to give added stimulation.  
All the while she closed her eyes and imagined the dark, green eyes of Cormoran boring down above her, imagined his panting, rough breaths against her neck, against her nipples….oh fuck, against her hole.

“Fuck, Cormoran,” she found herself shouting, feeling herself gravitating towards an explosive orgasmic release.

She flipped herself over and rocked her tight nipples against the sheet covering the mattress to relieve the ache in them, meaning that she could use her now freed hand to slide into her mound, locate her clit and flick against it firmly whilst rocking and pumping the vibrator firmly in and out of her pussy.  
She was moaning in increasing volume, imagining Cormoran’s moans and groans – some of those he’d uttered whilst humping the filing cabinet and thrusting the heavy piece of furniture into place came back into her memory and she felt a spasm deep within herself and she silently mouthed at the pillow as her pleasure flooded through her.  
She collapsed forwards, nudging Vlad who was still buzzing away from herself and panting.

“Fuck…..I’ve got to get laid!” she drooled, wriggling slightly and realising how tender she’d made her nipples.

After a short period of respite she sat up and switched off Vlad.  
She re-jiggled her boobs back into her bra and kicked her knickers off her ankle where they had ended up, not bothering to replace them as she padded through to the bathroom.  
She ran the tap and washed Vlad in water as hot as she could bear.  
Sighing she tossed it onto her bed and dragged on a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a sweatshirt.

“Right……food!” she said aloud and wandered through to the kitchen to survey the contents of her fridge, wondering what Cormoran was eating this evening.  
“Stop thinking about the man!” she huffed, and tried to blot out further thoughts of his forearms, thighs and crinkle-eyed grin as she boiled pasta and stirred through pesto.


	3. Cormoran again : number 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidden cameras that have been forgotten about in the office make for some interesting viewing.  
> Cormoran talks to his cock in the same way that he talks to his leg when he pees in that noodle pot!

Robin switched on her computer and settled herself at her desk.   
It was a fairly normal Thursday morning except that her colleague wasn’t already waiting in his office.   
He had been out until really late, or rather early, tailing a suspect and had already sent her a message to say he was sleeping late.

She scrolled through the variety of emails, junk and updates waiting for her attention in her inbox and noticed two from the automatic recording device they had fitted into Cormoran’s office the previous week – they had suspected one of their clients of acting as a decoy to swipe details they had gathered in an attempt to copy them and pass them onto their ‘mark’. It was potentially rather complicated, but Strike had rigged up a surveillance camera which switched on at specific times (linked to when they had arranged for the client to come into the office, usually after 6pm, when Robin wasn’t always around.)  
Anyway, the camera had worked a treat and they had got exactly the proof they needed after just one meeting.   
In the thrill of closing it Strike had clearly forgotten to disable the thing, so having been out of the office the previous day too, Robin now had the footage which had been triggered on Tuesday evening as well as Wednesday evening; the evening before.

She grinned at the thought that each would probably show an empty office….maybe she’d find that they had mice!....the offices certainly always had that underlying rodent-like aroma.

She looked at the Tuesday footage first.  
It was quite amusing to see Strike obliviously perched on his chair, behind his desk and she bit her lip excitedly, feeling like a voyeur, but an innocent one as she watched him turn pages and mark paragraphs on case files. He then reached over and fiddled with his computer, comparing a page to the screen with a scowling gaze.  
God he looked fantastically sexy!

She realised she could turn up the volume of the recording and did so, now able to hear his breath as he sniffed, and then exhaled.   
His lip pouted out as he sat back in his chair and he wriggled slightly. He reached back and scratched his back, making a delectably arousing groan as he obviously hit the sweet spot.

She giggled as he next seemed to rehearse what he was going to say; although he was speaking so softly she couldn’t pick up the gist, and then he snatched up his phone and dialled, waiting for whoever it was to pick up.  
Oh God….what if he was calling someone….romantically?   
Shit!  
But, thankfully she recognised the conversation immediately; he’d called her to check in on her final meeting on Tuesday – it was an existing client, nothing dodgy and she’d just needed them to verify a few details, involving a distinctive pair of gloves.

She heard his half of the conversation and could see his face soften as he spoke:  
“Hey! How did it go?”

“Yeah? Well…..it’s useful.”

“No, just finishing a few bits. I’m gonna go get some food….NO!......It’s my first take away in over a week, I’m allowed!”

He gave the most adorable, lip curling smile and span around coyly in his chair…..Robin couldn’t believe what she was seeing actually….he looked like a sweet, shy teenager….not at all like the Strike she interacted with everyday!

“Yeah. You too. See you tomorrow. “  
And he ended the call, placed the phone in his palm and whispered, “Goodnight Robin,” and mouthed a clear and audible kiss into the now dead phone.

Robin did a slight double take and fumbled as she rewound the images slightly.

Yes…..that was a very definite kiss!!!!

FUUUUCK!!!

The rest of the Tuesday night footage showed him closing down the computer, picking up his keys and phone and leaving the office.   
He appeared a few minutes later, swearing and rummaged under papers on his habitually messy desk, located his fags and left again.

The remainder of the footage showed the gloomy, eerily lit office and the occasional thump – which Robin expected was the outer office door being shut as Strike either went for take out or went up to his flat first.

Robin sighed and smiled at the prospect that she might have the same again for the Wednesday evening.  
She’d called him at about this time last night.   
She had been tailing Yoga mum and had decided to use the gym for a spinning class as she waited; it meant she could infiltrate the changing room in case something was going on in there. It wasn’t, or at least it wasn’t yesterday!

She clicked on the footage.   
Initially she was disappointed as Strike’s chair was vacant, but she spotted the swirling smoke from a lit cigarette in his ashtray and waited expectantly. Sure enough, after a few seconds Strike came through with a mug of what looked like his traditional creosote tea, a case file and 3 hobnobs rammed in his mouth for ease of transportation.  
He knocked against his desk and splashed some of the tea across his hand and trouser leg, making an audible but biscuit muffled ‘Shit it!’ and making Robin smile and purse her lips into a small ‘awww’.  
He managed to get himself settled, shook off his hand, wiped the back on his trousers and organised the case file before demolishing the biscuits with his usual and somewhat unbelievable speed.  
She noticed him fiddling and glancing across at his phone and watch, but other than to lean back in his chair and rake one of his large hands across his disastrous hair and stubbled chin he remained silent.

The footage continued uneventful for a few more minutes until she heard his ringtone and his hand snatched for the phone.   
He gave a crinkle eyed smile as he saw the caller ID and twisted his neck fractionally taking what looked like a steadying breath before he held it and answered.  
“’ello. How was Yoga Mum?”

Again, she could only hear his end of the conversation, but she also got to view his facial expressions.

“You’ve just done what?” his eyes glazed slightly and he sat back in his chair.

She knew she’d just told him she’d done a spinning class and spent 20 minutes chatting with Yoga Mum as they showered and changed afterwards, and that she absolutely, definitely did not think there was anything dodgy going on.

“So….you, just approached her in the changing rooms?” his eyebrows arched and he flexed one large hand against the edge of the desk.

Again, she remembered him asking and she had explained that they’d shared the communal shower and Robin had asked to borrow her shampoo, and so they’d got talking about gym classes.   
Yoga Mum was just a gym freak and loved working out….her jealous fella who assumed she had someone else was completely wrong!

“So….so, where are you now?”  
She watched as he nodded and licked his tongue across his upper lip.  
She’d told him she was on her way home where she was getting in the shower again to wash the ‘crappy, God awful shampoo’ out of her hair because it smelt wrong.

She saw him nod, quite adamantly before he responded,  
“Good idea. Well done, Robin.”  
She had said thanks down the phone to him and had said she was a bit annoyed it had been so easy because she’d enjoyed working up a sweat.  
At this point she saw Strike cover the mouthpiece of the phone, hiss the words, “Fucking hell!” before he dropped his hand from the desk to his trousers.   
She couldn’t see much from the angle of the camera and how he was hunched over, but it looked as though he might have ‘caught himself’….she had brothers….she knew how it went!

He uncovered the mouthpiece and told her to, “Ok then, enjoy your evening!” and she knew she’d told him to ‘do the same’.  
He placed his phone very carefully onto the desk. 

She watched as he stared off into the near distance of his office and heard him utter, “Fuck it…..I won’t be able to climb the stairs if I don’t!”  
Her eyes grew as wide as her dropped jaw when she watched what happened next.  
He leaned back in his chair, unfastened his belt and flies with alarming dexterity and speed and allowed his raging erection to burst free of it’s restraint.

Wow!

Robin momentarily considered whether it would be far too pervy to zoom in….but after a pause realised that it was hardly necessary!

She watched as he grasped himself firmly, allowed his neck to melt slightly and his head to drop back as he started a firm, regular rhythm of strokes.   
She turned up the volume slightly to listen to his breathing; he was growling a little, matching the pace of his hips which had begun to rock into his twisting, jerking hand.  
Robin realised that she was both on fire between her legs and at the same time was producing enough moisture to douse a bonfire!

She heard a hissed, “Oh God……fuck I could work up a fuckin’ sweat with you….you fucking’ gorgeous….”   
His breathing and moaning changed; became deeper, throatier, and his hand sped up as it tugged his incredibly impressive erection.   
He seemed fairly expert in his actions…..hardly surprising given his age and the fact that he’d been single for quite a significant part of his life (she didn’t generally count his on off relationship with Charlotte anymore, as he’d said himself it was pretty much off more often than on!)  
Robin realised that she was sitting forwards in her chair to stare more closely at the video playing out on her computer screen.   
She found that she was breathing in rhythm with Strike’s rapidly rising gasps. Her legs were clasping together as she watched him almost double over himself and tense, presumably as he came, but his shoulders covered the actual event.  
What couldn’t be masked however was his exclamation.   
As clear as day he grunted, “Oh fuck, Robin….you’re gonna kill me! Fuck!”

As his breathing returned to normal, sat gasping behind his desk, he groaned again and reached to light up a cigarette, casually twitching his hips, presumably to adjust his now flaccid cock.  
He reached across and swiped up a few tissues from the box on his desk….the box for tearful spouses!....no wonder they were always bloody running out recently!

She watched as he shook his head, drawing deeply on the cigarette, blowing plumes of smoke down his nostrils and tossing the wad of tissue into the bin,  
“I have got to stop doing this. I’m gonna go fuckin’ blind!”

Robin couldn’t prevent herself from snorting as she watched him pout like a petulant pug, wrinkling his brow and staring down at his crotch.  
“Why can’t you stay under fucking control? You used to be alright…..then you started going haywire when she wore that grey skirt to work,” he sucked on his fag again, “….now just hearing her on the fucking phone has you standing to attention…..although she was talking about female communal showers….and working up a sweat…..oh fuck, don’t start again!” and he let out a guttural shout as he hauled himself upright and wrestled his flies roughly closed enough to be able to walk without them falling down.

He left the shot, returning a few moments later, swearing and rummaging under the piles of paperwork on his habitually messy desk to locate his keys and phone.  
The light was flicked off and the image stilled to the empty office.

Robin realised she hadn’t drawn breath in a while and slumped back on her chair, panting and twitching her legs.  
So………apparently it was mutual!  
So what now?

She knew him well enough to know that she’d have to be as subtle as a flying brick to make him realise she wanted him as much as he wanted her……OK….she could do that kind of subtle……..now, how could she change the setting on the camera?   
And how could she get rid of Strike tomorrow afternoon?

Hmmmmmm?


	4. Robin again : Number 4 (plus a cheeky Number 5 from Strike....and some extras too!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title scans best as 4 wanks, so this is the fourth, but technically Strike gets involved too....and then the pair of them finally get involved together too!  
> It's quite a long one.....  
> This chapter is really rather rude....I mean the others were completely tame of course!

Strike thumped down from his flat at around 10.30am and met Robin’s slightly blushing gaze with a slightly quizzical one of his own.  
“Mornin’” he offered, sauntering through to the kitchen area and depositing a couple of mugs which had found their way up to his flat from the office.  
Robin cleared her throat and lifted her eyeline to his, feeling her cheeks flush slightly darker and hotter as she mentally recalled some of the images from the video footage she’d viewed earlier.

She’d had a little time to consider her options, and the first thing she’d done was amend the calendar for the day.  
“Hi,” she stated softly. “Erm…there’s a couple of changes today…..changes to what we had planned,” she added and he moved across to look at her computer screen from slightly behind her.  
“How come?” he ventured.  
“Well, one of us needs to meet a new client here and the other one of us needs to do some surveillance on the Phone Shop…..so, given the fact that you were out late I’ll do that on my way home, and you can meet the client here…..especially as they said they might be after 5.30!” she explained, flashing an alluring but somehow innocent smile up at him, catching Strike momentarily off guard.

He jumped slightly as he realised he was staring open mouthed down at her, a mental image of her lathering her amber coloured hair in the shower flickering across his brain.  
“Fine. I’m gonna pop to the Afghan place….I’m ravenous! D’you want anythin’?” he sniffed, reaching for his jacket.  
Robin stifled a smirk at the concept of exactly why he might have worked up such an appetite, but shook her head as response, “No, I’m fine. I’m going to finish these invoices off then hopefully you’ll be back and I need to go and tail the new mark……we need a name for her, I can’t keep calling her possible prostitute!” she grimaced.  
“Well, maybe something will occur to you today when you see her in person,” he rumbled before an arch of his brows and he was off, thumping unevenly down the stairs.

Robin took a deep breath when she heard the downstairs door slam closed……the new found insight into his apparent feelings towards her rendered her already swirling emotions almost uncontrollable; but she had a plan in mind, which gave him, and therefore her, an opt out if she’d got things very badly mistaken.

She would be free after tailing the new mark, whereas he had a meeting across town with an on-going case; it was a decent lead and they had arranged to meet in a café…it was all rather furtive because Strike had to sit at the table behind them so as not to appear to be talking to the guy. He’d said he’d do it himself and it worked out perfectly.   
He could do that, she could carry out her plan and then get out of the office for her newly invented appointment leaving him to wait for the other client in the office….where he could browse his emails……..

 

Strike ate and picked up a paper before returning to the office.   
Robin was in the process of heading out and he was grateful in some ways as it was easier for him to maintain control when she wasn’t around.   
These days he didn’t quite trust himself not to groan outwardly if she bent over the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, or if he caught sight of her thigh in the short mini skirt she was wearing today (Ok, she had really thick tights on…..but the shape of her leg was still right there!)……solitude was helpful….although he missed her!

He passed a few hours updating case files, working through a few possible timelines for events on an existing case which was proving tricky.   
A familiar sound on the stairs informed him of Robin’s return slightly before her cheery, “I’m back!” sounded from the outer office.  
Strike found himself smiling and sighing and physically punched his temple in an attempt to get himself to not be a stupid fucker.  
A few moments later her slightly tousled head appeared around his office door followed by the rest of her.  
“I’ve got a name for her,” she stated. He gave her an encouraging look to continue, “I think we should call her Alley Cat….I’ve just watched her take three guys down an alley and give them….let’s say, sexual favours!”  
His eyebrows arched up into his wrinkled forehead, “Bloody hell! You get pictures?”  
Robin nodded, “Oh yeah, and she carries a plastic bag for life with her to kneel on!” she giggled.  
“Well….can’t knock her for being prepared!” he muttered. “Hang on.....Three? You’ve only been gone an hour and a bit!”  
Robin nodded, “I know! It sort of looks like a regular arrangement….like she has regular clients that visit to get sucked off down an alley! Do you think it could be a kink thing? You know, guys that are into that….the whole thing of maybe getting caught?”  
Strike pursed his mouth, “Depends…..what did the guys look like?” she opened her phone and scrolled through the pictures, turning the phone so he could see.   
He took it from her hand and gave his familiar neck twitching scowl as he scrutinised the images, “Could be……they all look quite suited and booted……I’ve known weirder!” he passed the phone back to her.

“Are you ready to get going?” she asked breezily, although inwardly she was quite giddy at putting the next part of her plan into action.  
He nodded and checked his mug, draining the last inch of tea, “Yeah…..are you trying to get rid of me?” he grinned as he pocketed his fags, matches and phone.  
“No! No, just I don’t want you to have to rush ‘cos it knackers your knee!” she hurriedly answered, making her way out to her desk where she had dumped her bag.

She went through the familiar process of hanging it and her jacket on the coat stand and assumed her standard ‘Robin at work’ pose behind her desk.   
Strike paused momentarily as he went to the door…..what was it about seeing her like that, mouth pouted in concentration as she typed in her password, absently looping her hair behind her ear?.......how was it that the image had used to be one he could cope with and brush off, but now all he wanted to do was pull her across that desk and suck on that pouting, rosy mouth?

Instead he inhaled sharply, “Right, so….I’ll see you in the morning then,” and he stifled a groan as her swirling grey eyes found his.  
“Yeah…..you’ll see me,” she answered, and he was gone.

Robin needed to make sure he was definitely gone, so she waited a moment and then trotted down to the street level and glanced his large form and head of dark, unruly curls as he reached the top of the street.   
Swirling clouds of smoke would have given him away even if his stature hadn’t!  
She then went back up to the office and locked the main office door before retrieving the camera from Strike’s office and adjusting the setting so that it would record in twenty minutes time…..that would give her enough time for her preparation work!

 

Strike arrived back at the offices a little before 5pm.   
He knew Robin would be observing the dodgy goings-on in the phone shop they were investigating….he’d hardly seen her today, maybe that was a good thing given his reactions at just the sound of her voice the day before!  
He considered ringing her, but decided he’d just focus on clearing emails first…..he couldn’t afford to get too badly distracted…..he did have a business to run!

He fired off a quick text to Robin to let him know he was in the office and received a reply almost immediately; she told him she was on her way home and that she’d forwarded him a couple of emails that he might find interesting.  
He had nothing else to do while he waited for the new client to appear, Mr Bate was the name recorded in the online diary, so he opened his computer and started to skim through is inbox.

Working with Robin meant that she thinned out the bulk of the tat for him, so there were only about twelve or so for his attention, two he could see were from Robin herself. He glanced at the time she’d sent them to ensure he opened the first one first.  
He could see immediately that the first email contained an attachment, the message was simple :  
‘Not something you see every day……really very interesting! R’ and a winking face emoticon.

His natural curiosity was piqued, assuming it was something from her work today and he clicked on the attachment.   
The sight of his office, in fact the desk he was sitting at flashed up on the screen and his mouth dropped as he watched himself walk in with the mug of tea and pile of hobnobs rammed in his mouth.

“Oh holy buggering fuck!” he hissed, wincing as he turned up the volume on his computer.   
He felt one of his large hands splay against his forehead as he watched, shaking his head repeatedly and simply mumbling the phrase, “No…..please no…”  
But of course…..yes!

The fact that he was masturbating openly and vividly was bad enough, but his face went white when he recalled how he had ended the whole debacle…..fuck!   
There it was, shouting Robin’s name and then talking to his cock like it was a naughty schoolboy…..

“Oh fuck-a-doodle-do!” he shouted, slamming his fist onto the table.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?  
She’d seen that!   
And she’d sent it on to him!  
He had no idea whether the time stamp meant that she’d only just seen it….if that was the case then how the hell was he supposed to face her?  
But she’d added a winking face to the message!  
What the hell did that mean?  
Fucking emojis!

“Jesus……buggering, shitting, wanking,” he winced at the ironic choice of swearword, “fucking…….aaaarrrggghh!”

He considered watching it all again; if he memorised what he’d actually said maybe he could work out a way of explaining it all….innocently!

“’Cos it’s perfectly innocent to have your work colleague wanking in his office whilst shouting out the name of his female partner and then talking to his own genitalia….you cocking arsehole!” he said outloud.

His finger clicked absently to return to his inbox and he moved to the second email from Robin.   
It couldn't be worse!  
It was sent after but also appeared to have a large attachment added.

He pursed his lips, he’d just watched footage from last night, he thought back and knew he hadn’t done anything else of such catastrophically awful proportions…..what else could it be?

The message stated :  
‘Enjoy!.......I did! R X’ and a winking, tongue stuck out emoji was added this time.

“Ohhhhhh, fuuuuuck…..what have I done?” he was wracking his memory, hand clasping and rasping against his bristled jaw when the familiar office image came up on the screen.

It looked immediately different to the previous recording, and he realised it wasn’t as dark.   
His mouth then dropped almost to the floor when he saw Robin walk casually into shot before trailing her fingertips around the edge of his desk and sitting in his chair….the one he was currently seated in.  
He swallowed.

He wasn’t sure whether he’d just inhaled or not, but he forced himself to inhale again, just in case.

She carefully moved his computer screen to one side of his desk and ran her palms across the smooth, slightly gnarled surface.   
He heard her inhale deeply before whimpering slightly and moving her fingers to the buttons on her peachy coloured blouse.  
It was his turn to whimper as she raised her gaze and stared directly into the camera as she continued to unfasten her blouse.  
“I suppose it is quite private in this office……..not surprising you get up to all sorts of naughty things, Cormoran….”  
God, the way she said his name…..it sent shivers through every part of him, and he couldn’t stop staring at the creamy expanse of her chest being revealed as she unfastened her blouse…..fuck!   
She wasn’t wearing a bra!

She hadn’t parted the fabric as yet, but it was clear from the smooth line of skin visible as she fiddled with the final button that all she had to do was move slightly, or flick her fingers…..  
He panted and realised he was actually angling his head as if to give him a slightly better view.  
She dropped her head forwards, allowing a curtain of her honey-gold hair to briefly hide the view, but when she dragged her hand and hair back she casually rippled one shoulder and skimmed the fabric of her blouse away to reveal one of her simply perfect breasts to him.

His hand had curled into a fist and he realised he had thumped it repeatedly against his desk as he watched breathlessly.  
“Oh fuck, Robin……..shit….God you’re gorgeous,” he hissed, his gaze transfixed by her mesmeric, sultry, tousle haired stare.

“MMmmmmmmm……it’s quite cold though,” she pouted as she brought her hand towards her exposed breast, cupping it’s weight, squeezing slightly and rolling her hardening nipple between her thumb and forefinger until it formed a puckered, pearl-like tip.  
He watched as she shook her head slightly, tendrils of her amber locks tumbled across her neck and shoulder and he wanted to lick them away so badly.

“I need to check the other one,” he heard her whisper, grasping her lower lip in her teeth as she dragged her blouse slowly across her other breast.   
She paused teasingly as the buttons reached her nipple.   
Strike found himself gasping and making a slight grunt to try and will her to continue.

She cupped both breasts and squeezed them lightly together, groaning and wriggling her hips on the chair,  
“I’m thinking about what you were doing in this very chair last night…….mmmmmmmm……just imagine if your cock was sliding between these……God I bet that would feel pretty good…..don’t you….Cormoran?”

“Fucking hell, shit yes, yes…..fuck me yes!” he panted, grappling now to open his flies and release his straining, rock solid erection.  
Just as he wrapped his hand around his length she pouted into the camera and spun the chair around, glancing over her shoulder.   
Strike made a petulant grunt.

“Can’t have you getting over excited again……although, maybe it’s just this chair…..because I am feeling very, very horny,” she gasped, her head dropping backwards on her neck.  
He could see that her eyelids had fluttered closed, but he couldn’t see exactly why….he was doing an excellent job of imagining though, and he realised he still had his dick in his hand, but wasn’t moving it.  
“Oh God, Robin…….what are you doing you stunning, sexy...... Oh fuck…….show me…pleeeease,” he begged, knowing full well that what he said made no difference….she’d already decided on what he would see.

Fuck!   
That in itself was wank material!

And then there was no need to beg anymore.

She turned achingly slowly in the chair having wriggled forwards slightly on the seat.   
He noticed for the first time that she was no longer wearing the thick black tights with her short skirt and took a moment to appreciate her long, pale limbs and almost exquisitely small foot as it toed it’s way along the edge of his desk.  
“Fuck the fucking bed!” he almost shouted.

Robin had brought both of her legs up and rested her toes elegantly on the edge of the desk and then swiftly parted her knees revealing the fact that her knickers had clearly taken the same exit as her tights.  
“You’re not the only one that likes thinking about someone else while they cum, Cormoran………oh, and I decided that zooming in was pervy…..but feel free!” and she slipped her fingers down to part her soft, pink lips. 

Strike was almost frozen to his chair.   
He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen and watched as Robin stroked up and down her most intimate part, her breath stuttering and soft moans accompanying her fingertip exploration.

Zooming in did seem a bit pervy….but fuck it, she was wanking into a camera with the specific purpose of letting him watch!   
He zoomed in on her fingers and groaned as he saw the glimmering slick of her juices as she again parted her rose coloured labia and stroked against her opening.  
The small ‘v’ of hairs was fair, neatly trimmed, and her fingers were now stroking upwards to locate her clit, which on the zoomed in image looked like it was aching for him to reach forwards and suck.  
Her groan caught his attention and dragged him back from almost licking the screen, and he realised that although the increased focus on her cunt was delicious, he couldn’t see her reactions, and he wanted to…..he wanted to see how she pleasured herself…..how she was pleasuring herself for HIM!

He rapidly zoomed the image out a little so that the focus was on all of Robin now, and he could see that her mouth was parted, her breath coming in small whimpers, matching the swirl of her fingers.  
She slowed her pace slightly, gasping as she looked directly into the camera,  
“Watch very closely…….because I’m imagining this is you,” and she glanced down to draw his attention before sliding one of her fingers inside herself and grasping at her neglected, pert nipples with her other hand.  
“Oh God, I wish this was your cock,” she panted.

“Fuck….so do I…..fuck, Robin…..God you’re amazing…..and so fucking perfect!” he gasped, realising that he was tugging himself in a pace to match her thrusting hand.

He noticed her slot a second finger into her pussy and increase the pace and intent of her strokes as she squeezed and rolled her hard nipple between her fingers.  
Strike was getting close to bursting again; watching her writhe against her own hand was bliss.  
He was almost afraid to cum, he didn’t want to miss a second of watching Robin unravel infront of him.

Her moans and gasps were coming faster and shallower and with a shuddering clench and a silent sob she clearly peaked and came; her neck almost liquid on her shoulders, the sight of which made him spurt his milky release across his hand.  
“Oh God, Cormoran…….Cormoran…..” she purred, breathily as she clutched at her hair and dragged every orgasmic thrill from her hand.  
Strike stared open mouthed at the screen.  
Robin looked like heaven……fuck!

She’d wanked behind his desk and filmed it….and sent it to him…..even Cormoran with his glass half empty approach to their possible relationship had to admit that it was quite likely that she fancied him!

Robin stared dreamily into the camera, adjusted her clothing and sexily licked the fingers which had been the cause of her pleasure, groaning deeply.  
“I think I’ve done enough for the day….I’m going home….Oh….and by the way, there’s no new client….I lied!” and she arched an eyebrow seductively. “You’ve got a couple of choices now – you can either pretend this never happened if I’ve badly misjudged things, and we won’t speak of it again….OR, you could keep this for your own private wank bank, and we won’t speak of it again….OR, you can come round to mine and we can see if we’re as good together as we are by ourselves.”  
She pursed her lips and blew a kiss into the camera having worked her way around to stand in front of the desk as she spoke.  
Then she casually left the shot and he heard the door close.

 

Strike gave himself approximately nine seconds of thinking time and then dragged his pants closed and strode purposefully to the door.  
His first thought was to get to Robin immediately – his primal, animal instinct told him to claim her as soon as possible in case she changed her mind. However he thought more practically; mainly because he could feel his own spunk dribbling down his leg – not a good look in tan cargo pants!  
He therefore dragged himself upstairs to his flat where he undressed and showered with lightening speed before putting on fresh pants, trousers and shirt and re attaching his leg.   
He cleaned his teeth, grabbed a packet of condoms from the bathroom cabinet and hastily removed the wrapping to shove all 3 into his inner pocket…..just in case!  
He grabbed his phone, wallet, keys and fags and locked his door.   
Money was no object at this point, so once on Denmark Street he hailed the first black cab he saw and gave Robin’s address.

Should he text her?   
Ring her?

She’d given him an opt out – he had absolutely no doubt that had he chosen one of the other options she would have held fast to her offer – that is to say she would have never mentioned it again, and presumably ignored his exuberant display too.   
But no, this was too far gone for him now. He was already wanking himself into early onset myopia!   
The fact that Robin appeared to feel the same arousal for him was what he had been waiting for….of course he’d had hints, and he’d thought he’d sensed her softening towards him for want of a better phrase. But he hadn’t dared hope if he was honest with himself.   
I mean, for fuck’s sake, he was ten years her senior, one legged, slightly overweight and OK, he wasn’t yet balding, but he was hardly film star hunk material….compared to her.

The taxi seemed to be hitting every red traffic light, every blocked turn and every possible method of preventing him from reaching Robin, and he could feel himself sweating slightly; he’d rushed to get ready and the shower had been hot, preventing him from cooling down as he dressed.   
He wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow and made himself calm his breathing and after a further twenty minutes or so the cab was pulling up outside Robin’s building.  
She had moved into a tiny flat – almost as small as his own – in an old building which had a Tesco Express at street level.   
There were 4 flats and Strike had been a fairly regular visitor since she moved in six months earlier, so he was a familiar face to the other flat owners.  
One of them, a gay guy called Callum, who had the other flat on Robin’s floor, was exiting the building as Strike paid the cab. He recognised him and they gave each other a swift half hug of familiarity, Callum was a nice fella who’d befriended Robin and looked out for her.   
He allowed Strike to go through the coded outer security door and thus a few moments later, having made his way up the 2 flights of stairs with more spring in his step than usual, he was knocking on Robin’s door.

He sniffed and wiped his slightly sheening face as he waited, he looked directly towards the spyhole in what he didn’t realise was a ridiculously seductive stare – on the other side of the door Robin bit her lip and squeezed her legs together before she twisted the Yale lock.  
He was leaning on the door frame with one forearm, his weight on his full leg and she could see that the hair at the nape of his neck was slightly damp and curling…..had he had a shower before he came over?   
Sweet!

“I wasn't sure that you’d come,” she whispered as she gathered herself slightly and opened the door more fully to him.  
He flexed his neck slightly before answering, “Robin….I nearly came in the fucking taxi on the way here!”

Her hand shot out and grasped the lapel of his jacket, almost dragging him inside as their mouths finally met in a frenzy of panting, needy kisses.   
He somehow managed to kick the door closed behind himself as they manuoeuvred themselves towards her bedroom, his jacket and her lounge top discarded en route.  
“I can’t believe you did that in the office,” he gasped, growling as he lifted her slightly and she knelt up against him on her bed.   
She was tackling the buttons on his shirt as he swarmed his hands against the soft, creamy skin on her back and sides.   
Robin sniggered slightly against his biting lips, “I can’t believe YOU did what you did……no wonder our tissues keep needing replacing!”  
He grinned and if she’d lifted her head from where she was unfastening his flies to free his solid erection she’d have seen the faint blush to his cheeks. 

Much as he’d willingly have fallen onto the bed alongside her to act out every one of his wildest fantasies without missing a beat he did want to make sure they were completely on the same page, so much to her dismay he dragged her hand away from where it was coaxing his cock from his pants.  
“Robin….just wait a minute,” he panted.  
She groaned, “Don’t bloody tell me you’ve gone shy…..I’ve seen the footage….and it doesn’t feel like you have anything to be shy about here,” her fingers caressing the not insubstantial length of his prick, earning a slight whimper and flutter of her eyelashes as well as a sharp intake of breath and grunt from him.

Again he removed her hand, entwining his fingers with hers to prevent her recapturing his cock which was jutting towards her.  
She grinned mischievously down at it and squirmed her shoulders in an attempt to reach it with her mouth, and for a fraction of a second Strike almost forgot to stop her…..but stop her he did.  
“Listen! Robin, no, no….now.... just stop….no….oh fuck…I’m tryin’ to be…..oh……Jesus, Robin , stop….just…….just for a second,” she was insatiable……and clearly trying every trick she had to get him to overbalance onto the mattress with her.   
Her lips were exploring his neck and chest, her teeth found his earlobe, her knees were rubbing against his thighs (how was that by itself sexy?!)

He forced his voice to sound firm and authoritative, and mentally punched himself…..the last thing he wanted to do was make himself seem like a bossy, old boring git!   
“I need to know what you want…..from me……from us…I mean, I take it you want an us? Yeah?” he asked.

The stern, almost commanding voice he used sent waves of desire flooding through her groin and she writhed more as he tried to hold her still.  
“Cormoran, I want you…..I’ve wanted you for ages now…..I don’t know how I’ve managed to not jump on you before now. That camera footage…..of you…..God that was hot. I want this…..I hope my video made that clear,” and she ducked again, sensing a slight relaxation in his elbows which allowed her mouth to make contact again with his chest and she nuzzled her way across to locate one of his nipples partially hidden within the thick, dark hair.  
Strike groaned at the sensation, and at his inability to maintain his composure and roughly pushed her away, this time almost wrestling her arms around her back and pressing her close to his chest, but in such a manner as to render most of her squirming ineffective….although the fact that he’d sandwiched his aching cock between them was by the by!

“Robin……I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time…..but I needed to know, not just guess….this is too important to me. I need you to know, for me, this…..it’s not a quick fuck and move on……..if all you want is sex…I’m not who you want…..and I can’t quite believe I’m saying that!” he rolled his eyes ruefully at her thinking about his past relationships which had mainly been exactly that!

Robin had stopped trying to distract him and smiled as he spoke.  
She reached up her face, he drew back slightly to avoid her lips, but she shook her head calmly and he relented.   
Pressing her lips against his she kissed him intensely, but with sweet and tender control.   
When they broke apart Strike felt more light headed than he had done when he was watching her finger herself rigid.

“Cormoran, I want this, and us, and I don’t care how long any of this takes……’cos I’m in it for the long haul……but right now, I’d seriously like you to fuck me,” and she knelt perfectly still, watching his green eyes dilate into dark, blown pools of black.

He flared his nostrils slightly and felt her body relax against his, “I can probably manage that!” he smirked, wolfishly and flipped her backwards, “But first, I want to verify that footage…” he knelt down beside the bed and dragged down her lounge pants and knickers, noting with a growl how soaked they were, and discarded them while hitching her closer to the edge of the mattress, one of his strong forearms clasped around each thigh.  
He moved his intense stare down from her twinkling gaze, along the same creamy skin he’d seen on his computer screen (this time interrupted by a sliver of almost transparent white bra) and inhaled slowly as he looked at the same pink folds he’d seen her stroking; the same small triangle of pale, golden hairs.  
“Oh God, this is so much nicer than it looked on screen….and it looked really, really good on screen,” he snarled before dipping his mouth and licking firmly along the same rose coloured seam he’d watched her stroking in his office.

She tasted like heaven, and the small whimpering noises she was making as he slowly and thoroughly licked her from her leaking opening to her swollen clit was playing havoc with his almost non-existent equilibrium.  
He angled her hips up and nudged her legs wider, latching onto her nub, sucking and pressing his tongue against it before sliding one hand around her thigh and pressing a thick finger inside her, feeling her clench and thrust into his face.  
She hadn’t factored in the additional sensation caused by his beard, and even without his finger inside her she was struggling to maintain any level of control, but as he stroked into her, twisting his digit slightly and finding the slightly firmer spot inside her she let out a loud, guttural moan.  
Strike groaned against her, finding a sense of masculine smugness in his ability to make her lose control so freely.   
He moved his mouth away slightly, still delivering languid licks between his comments, “I think it was the second one you slid in that finished you off,” and he paused, grinning at her slightly glazed expression before pressing his index finger into her delicious center.  
The moistness combined with his slightly curled fingers created a slightly obscene noise which Robin found ridiculously sexy, and as she gazed at his smirking, curl-lipped mouth she shuddered and found herself completely unravelling.  
As he stroked her orgasm from her he pressed his mouth across her clit and sucked perfectly to leave her almost screaming his name and clutching at his hair; not sure whether she was pulling him closer or trying to drag him away from the almost-too-much sensation.

When he was satisfied that she was satisfied he allowed her legs to dangle off the bed and crawled his way up beside her, his own erection still rigidly standing out from his body.  
Robin felt the shining head nudge against her hip and heard his request for her to , “Get up here so I can kiss you properly.”  
Squirming her way up the bed she felt him capture her mouth, delving his tongue into her mouth.   
She realised she could taste herself on him, and her scent lingered on his facial hair….it was ridiculously arousing.

Strike moved his hands around to unclasp her bra and that too was thrown to the floor, his palms finally able to cup and caress her perfect breasts.  
“God you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, trailing kisses across her chest and reaching the delectable mounds of her breasts.   
He licked around their curve and weight, moving the tip of his tongue in concentric circles before finally reaching her tightly puckered nipple.   
With a mutual groan he sucked it into his mouth and slid his hands under her back to anchor her into his needy ministrations.  
Robin had no intention of going anywhere, but the feeling of Strike’s firm hands around her as his mouth worked at her highly sensitive breasts was making her aroused again.

She reached her hands down and found his impressive erection and felt him falter slightly against her chest.  
“I want this,” she sobbed, stroking deliciously up and down his length, glorying in his size and solidity.  
Strike leaned back slightly, “Can I at least take my trousers off first?” he grinned, hissing his breath through his teeth as she shadowed her palm across the end of his cock and thumbed at his leaking slit.

Robin grinned and wriggled her way around to lye on the bed properly, allowing Strike the opportunity to remove his shoe, sock and trouser leg from his left leg, he also pulled his arms from the sleeves of his shirt and tossed it aside.  
“Before I take this off,” he indicated his prosthesis, “Do I need a condom? ‘Cos they’re in my jacket,” and he grinned as she shook her head at him, flashing her packet of pills on her bedside table.  
He dealt with his leg and propped it up against the wall, within reach of ‘his side’ of the bed and noticed that she had slipped under the covers as he’d undressed.   
He slid beside her and for a second just marvelled at how wonderful it finally felt to hold her naked body, skin on skin, next to his own.  
However, his cock reminded them both of his arousal by almost pushing her away in it’s ferocity.

Her hands were exploring his body; across his wide shoulders, down the softness of his sides, kneading into the pert musculature of his arse.   
He kept his own hands sliding around her waist, giving her space to back out if she needed to.  
Much as he knew she wouldn’t want him to, he couldn’t help but think about her past……he wanted this to be so different…..he wanted to show her that he cared about her, shit, he loved her……and he wanted her to feel that when they finally came together.

“Cormoran,” she whispered against his neck, her mouth sucking and biting down on a sensitive spot where his neck became his chest.   
Her hands moved around to his cock again and she moved herself further beneath him, nudging her knee against his thigh.  
He read her intent and moved himself above her, between her legs, his weight spread between his powerful arms and what was left of his legs.   
The frenzied kissing from earlier had given way to deeper, more sensual exchanges; their lips slanted and moved together as if in some long practised manner, their breaths were becoming shallower, hands splaying against backs, buttocks; fingers tangling in long amber hair and shorter dark curls.

With a slight adjustment of his hips he was right there, pressing against her, and he knew that the tiniest movement from either one of them would change things completely.  
She peered up at him, eyes blown dark and wide with desire and whispered, “Yes,” before he pushed forwards with his hips and slid one hand to her firm, rounded arse to enable him to ease inside her.

He moved slowly, mainly because he wanted it to last longer than a few seconds (and by now he was so close to blowing it was untrue) but also because Robin was tight around him.   
Robin was shocked at the feeling of being so completely filled…..Cormoran was bigger than her past experiences……she’d known that from the video, and from stroking him. The sensation of him entering her however had been quite delicious and she could almost feel her muscles loosening up to him, relaxing as he slowly moved back and pushed back into her.

“Shit, Robin….you feel so fucking good……,” he hissed and shuddered slightly above her as he tried to maintain an element of control.  
Robin however undulated her hips beneath him, making him shout her name and thrust again, more deeply inside her.   
She wrapped one of her legs high around his back and moved her hands down to press against his lower back. She pushed him into her as her hips moved to meet his in an almost unbearably perfect rhythm.  
“God, Cormoran……I’m gonna cum again,” she sobbed, biting her lip as she struggled to verbalise her feelings.   
Being so stretched around him, and his position of arching up on his strong arms was forcing his cock to hit a perfect spot inside her.

Strike looked down at her and felt his own release close as they increased the pace of their thrusting hips….it was fucking perfect……fast….but fucking perfect, and as he saw her tilt her head back into the pillow, her mouth forming a silent version of his name he allowed himself to drive into her several times, pumping his release as he hissed her name and collapsed to his elbows, still moving his hips against her until he felt her clutching hand on his arse relax and her leg slide from it’s position around his back.

They panted and gasped together for several minutes until Strike was able to push back slightly and pull out of her, a trickle of their combined juices following.  
He reached across and kissed Robin’s closed eyelids delicately, earning a simply beautiful closed-eyed smile from the blissed out face of her on the pillow beside him.

“I think the length of time that took to happen was directly disproportionate to the length of time that actually took!” he laughed, still struggling to regain control of his breathing.  
Robin opened her eyes, still unable to stop her face from smiling widely.  
“Hmmmmmm……I know……I’m absolutely not complaining though!” she panted.  
“Well……it’s still pretty early really……so maybe we can work on increasing our staying power…..I mean, only if you fancy it,” he grinned one of his eye-crinkling smiles at her, tucking a tendril of her hair behind her ear like he’d always imagined doing.

She sighed, “I’ve always fantasised about you doing that,” she whispered.  
He raised his eyebrow lasciviously, “Well I know that now…..I saw the footage!”  
She laughed and shook her head at him, stroking her fingers through his chest hair, “No……not THAT, although lately yes, I’ve definitely been fantasising more about that. No…I meant you doing that with my hair,” she lowered her gaze slightly, shyly.

God, was it possible for him to love her more?

“I’ll happily spend all night doing that if that’s what you want,” he murmured, kissing her dreamily and raking his fingers through her soft hair.  
“Sounds good…..but not ALL night,” she smiled – this time with a wicked gleam in her eyes and she squirmed around, straddling his half stiff cock beneath her and moving her sticky slit against him, coaxing him easily into a full erection with minimal effort.

“I have a feeling we may get very little sleep,” Strike groaned as she reached back and cupped his balls in her slender hand.  
“Is that a problem?” she asked sexily.  
Strike shook his head, “Sleep’s overrated,” he growled as he steadied her hips with a large hand either side and slid up into her gorgeous, welcoming heat again……and again……….and then again!


	5. The 'Funeral'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this completes this silly fic, with Ilsa and Robin on a shopping trip a few weeks after Robin and Strike get together.  
> The way Strike says the name of Vlad's replacement is EXACTLY the was Tom as Athos says 'Porthos' in episode 1, when he catches his musketeer friend hiding cards up his sleeve in the tavern....just for context!

“Remind me again what we’re after?” Ilsa asked, widening her eyes and wrinkling her nose at the sight of a duo of differently sized anatomically ‘correct’ fake arses on a display as they passed.  
Robin rolled her eyes slightly,  
“A replacement for Vlad! He’s defunct.” Robin smirked as she headed towards the display cabinet of vibrators in Ann Summers.  
Ilsa shook her head slightly, “Surely you won’t have been needing him for the past couple of weeks!” and she cast her friend a look of mock horror and amusement.

Nick and Ilsa had discovered that their two friends had finally….FUCKING FINALLY…………decided to get together a week earlier.   
They’d managed to keep things under wraps while they tried to work out the logistics of sleeping and working together; although the term sleep might have been a little inappropriate given the fact that they’d managed to spend about 36 hours in a non-horizontal position (and at least two of those had still been connected with trying out sexual positions and scenarios – turns out as long as he had something to brace his dodgy foot against it worked fine!)

Anyway, at the monthly curry night meet up chez Herbert, Robin had gone to fetch more wine from the utility room, Strike had nipped in for a few more beers, and after a prolonged absence Nick had been sent to investigate.  
The slightly camp squeal and hand clap which emanated from him on discovering the pair of them (hands roaming under clothing, joined at the mouth, Robin perched on the worktop with her legs wrapped around Oggy’s waist) had earned him much ribbing since, but he didn’t mind when the ultimate outcome was his best mate’s profound happiness.  
They’d been forced to admit to the previous week of antics, and both Nick and Ilsa had agreed to keep the ‘secret’ for a while so that they could enjoy the relationship with relative freedom first.   
Such was the nature of their previous cases that media interest would no doubt jump on the fact that they were seeing each other, and neither really wanted that level of intrusion yet.  
So, Ilsa was accompanying Robin on a day out shopping and lunch.   
Both Strike and Robin knew it was for the purpose of having a proper ‘girlie’ chat about how things were going, and so here they were shopping for vibrators in Ann Summers.

“Vlad isn’t technically broken,” Robin explained, “He’s just…..no longer…..well, let’s just say he no longer meets my needs!” and she arched her eyebrows as Ilsa tried to keep up; both mentally and physically as she was distracted by a display of handcuffs, including a rather interesting matte black pair.  
Robin noticed her friend’s interest with a smirk….good on Ilsa!   
Or maybe, good on Nick?

“I don’t get what you mean?” Ilsa stated.  
Robin huffed and spoke in hushed, hissing tones, “Not going into graphic detail Ilsa, but the guy you’ve been mates with since you were five is hung like a horse and having got accustomed to his…..girth…….well….Vlad’s not doing it anymore!”

Ilsa was blushing at the thought of her Cornish friend’s…..well, his cock!  
It wasn’t something she ever gave much thought to….she’d seen him paddling naked in the sea when they were kids, but clearly he’d grown up quite a lot!

“You asked!” Robin grinned.  
“Yes I'm so glad I did!…..right, without giving away too much information that I probably, definitely don’t need to know, say when,” and Ilsa pointed her index finger at an almost ‘candle like’ display of vibrators which increased in size from left to right.  
Robin faced the display and watched as Ilsa selected a ‘realistic’ starting point and moved her finger slowly towards the larger end of the display.  
Robin wrinkled her nose and raised her eyebrows as Ilsa began to run out of options.  
“I said, say when!” Ilsa hissed, meeting Robin’s look of chagrin and mirth.  
“….and when I need to I will!......When!” she finally uttered, when Ilsa had reached a particularly impressively sized lurid pink example on the display.

“You’re joking?! Jesus Robin, how the hell can you sit down without wincing?!” Ilsa mocked.   
She reached out and copied Robin as she wrapped her hand around the model on display.   
Robin was trying to judge if she was correct in her assessment. She compared against the model slightly larger and nodded in approval of her initial judgement.   
Ilsa dropped her head to one side and considered the ‘feel’ of the lurid pink vibrator in her palm…..Christ!

She looked along the display and Robin giggled as she read her friend’s mind, “Come on then……which is Nick?” Robin grinned.  
Ilsa blushed furiously and considered two of the models fractionally further towards the left of the row.   
She mimicked Robin’s hand grip test between them and after a moment’s consideration pronounced, “The length of that but the width of that!” Robin pursed her lips in a small ‘Oooo’ of impressed female camaraderie.

“I need an assistant now. I’m not getting one that colour!” Robin announced and caught the eye of a young assistant who had hair the colour of fondant icing and blue eyebrows.  
Robin quickly explained her wish list : the size, soft if possible, not a ridiculous colour but any skin tone would be fine; and the pair of friends meandered around the lingerie section while they waited.

“So you haven’t explained how come you know poor old Vlad is no use,” Ilsa continued as she flicked through a selection of rather beautiful navy lace teddys.  
“Oooh, that would suit you,” Robin replied, before explaining further, “And as far as Vlad is concerned, well…..Cormoran does occasionally work late….or even through the night….plus…..well….once he asked whether I had one he got quite enthusiastic about…….watching….” she trailed off and met Ilsa’s open mouthed look of interest.  
“…..Watching?!.....you mean watching you?…..” Ilsa asked, noting the slight blush creeping to Robin’s cheeks.  
“It’s sort of a theme,” Robin ventured, “You know I said he finally caved and came to my flat and that’s how we got together?” Ilsa nodded, “Well, there may have been a trigger linked to a bit of……hmmmm….how much info is too much?”

Ilsa’s neck and eyes were twitching like mad, “Oh spill the beans Robin!” she hissed.  
“Alright…..we watched each other knocking one out in the office via a hidden camera!”

Ilsa stared in complete shock and awe at her friend, not sure how to respond:  
“What? Knowingly? You…..and him…..you had a wank in the office and filmed it for each other? And this was before you got together?”   
Robin wrinkled her nose, “Not exactly….that sounds both seedy and amazingly hip and sexually free at the same time! No, he didn’t know he was being filmed….and I saw it kind of accidentally, and then I arranged for him to receive one of me….and that did the trick!”  
“I bet it bloody did! Tell me it wasn’t on that farting sofa!” Ilsa quizzed as the assistant approached them carrying a variety of boxes.  
Robin shook her head and laughed, “No, you’re safe!......Corm’s office!” she winked and gave her attention to Blue Brows as they showed the selection available.

Robin selected a model which addressed her wish list; it was only available in a dark, skintone, but Vlad was shining silver, so as long as it didn’t resemble a kiddie’s bedroom ornament Robin was happy.

She paid and waited as Ilsa added a set of the navy blue underwear and a pair of the handcuffs to the counter and paid.  
The two women smiled, “I wasn’t going buy these while you were here, but having heard what the pair of you get up to mine and Nick’s penchant for a bit of restraint kink seems downright tame!” and the pair continued giggling as they took their purchases and headed for coffees.

“What are you going to do with Vlad? Shall we have a funeral and bury him in our garden?” Ilsa suggested jokily as Robin laughed along with her.

 

Robin introduced herself to her new purchase when she got home - Corm was finishing off some work on one of their longer, trickier cases that seemed finally to have reached a pleasing conclusion.  
Later, Strike joined her (she’d given him his own key to her flat and he found her as she was just finishing. He joined in, smiling rakishly as he took control of the new buzzing implement with enthusiasm and considerable skill!) and amused himself with her explanation of why a new purchase had been necessary.  
“Well, I’m flattered in a very weird way…..but what’s going to happen to poor old Vlad? “ he asked, stroking his fingers teasingly along her hyper sensitive thighs and smiling down at her.  
Robin grinned and panted, “I can’t exactly send him on to a charity shop! Ilsa suggested a funeral in their garden.”  
Strike winced, “Knowing our luck one of the cats would dig the bloody thing back up! What are we calling this brute then?” he regarded the item still in his hand and tweaked the on/off switch slightly as he raised it to her eyeline.  
“Porthos!” she announced.   
The size and shade had instantly made her think about her favourite character from the TV series of The Musketeers.  
Strike arched one single brow, “Porthos? ….well, he’s a definite bad boy!” He addressed the impressively large, dark object in his hand, “Porthos, you have my complete permission to pleasure my girlfriend whenever you’re needed mate!”  
Robin growled, the way he purred the name in his deep rumbling voice sent shivers through her still tingling entrance…..what a lovely unforeseen added bonus of the name!  
Robin squirmed against the familiar and comforting bulk of Strike beside her.   
“I take it we’re not eating anytime soon?” he muttered, nuzzling into her neck and inhaling a waft of her intoxicating scent.  
She made her answer quite clear by starting to remove his shirt and unbuckle his trouser belt, “Put Porthos away and let me just make completely sure that it’s the right size to act as an alternative for the real thing,” she whispered seductively and whimpered as his rock solid erection sprang free from his flies.  
“Stand down Porthos…go make friends with Vlad!” he quipped, nudging open the drawer by her bed where he now knew she kept a few saucy items and twisted back to focus his attention of the deliciously insatiable woman in his arms.

Vlad didn't receive a funeral.....just went into early retirement!

**Author's Note:**

> This is gender equal wanking, so Robin's turn next!


End file.
